


another trip in this strange relationship

by Marks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Getting Together, Kissing, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, but this is endgame tsukkiyamayachi make no mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: “You know,” Tadashi said lightly, “Tsukki doesn’t have a girlfriend.” He looked over again to gauge Yachi's reaction.“I know that.” Yachi pulled her eyebrows together thoughtfully. “The only person I ever see him with outside of volleyball is – is you, Yamaguchi-kun!”Tadashi laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess you’re right,” he said. Then he added, “But if you wanted to change that, I don’t think he’d mind.”A sudden picture flashed through Tadashi’s head, one of Tsukishima and Yachi smiling at each other, holding hands and walking away from him. The thought alone sent a cold trickle of dread running down his spine, and he had to shove it away forcefully.





	another trip in this strange relationship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wickedcherub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedcherub/gifts).



> Written for Sportsfest 2018, just about five months too late. Inspired by wickedcherub's prompt:
> 
> _I want her she wants him_  
>  _He wants me I give in_  
>  _I want her_  
>  _I want him_
> 
> \- Darren Hayes 'Love and Attraction'
> 
> and the title's from darren hayes's 'strange relationship.' i hope you like love triangles turning into a sweet polyamorous relationship and yamaguchi suffering, tina! in fact, i hope everyone likes that.

Tadashi stood on the sidelines of their practice match with Wakutan, wiping his forehead and neck with a towel. He only played for about five minutes, and he was a sweaty mess; he didn’t understand how his teammates who hardly ever got swapped out for more than a couple of rotations didn’t melt into little puddles.

“Water, Yamaguchi-kun?” asked Yachi, coming over to stand next to him. She held out a sports bottle and smiled brightly at him, making him trip over his own feet when he reached out to take it. Yachi had always been cute and Tadashi had always been kind of clumsy, but lately, he’d been noticing the first thing more, which made the second thing worse. Yachi caught him by the elbow and let out a little squeak – _cute_ – and then they spent the next minute turning bright red and bowing at each other.

A whistle blew and Tsukishima switched with Nishinoya. “Look, it’s an infinite loop,” he said, pulling Tadashi back by his collar. Tadashi let out a sheepish little laugh and Yachi bowed once to Tsukishima, before realizing what she was doing and scurrying off to give Narita some water. The rotation moved two slots quickly, until it was Hinata’s turn to serve and Tsukishima was back on the front line. “Try to keep out of trouble this time,” he called over his shoulder as he jogged back onto the court.

“Yes, Tsukki!” Tadashi said. “Sorry, Tsukki!”

Yachi wandered back to Tadashi’s side, something that made him bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet. He bounced even more when Tsukishima stuffed Wakutan’s ace a moment later.

“Wow,” Yachi breathed. He glanced sidelong at her and Yachi’s eyes were wide and her hands were balled up near her mouth. Tadashi couldn’t blame her for that; Tsukishima’s blocks had that kind of effect on people.

“Tsukki’s amazing,” Tadashi agreed.

“Amazing,” Yachi echoed, her eyes following as Tsukishima reluctantly put up his hands so Tanaka could high-five him. She smiled at Tadashi again. “Yes, he really is, isn’t he?”

Something about the way she said it made Tadashi look down at his shoes. He’d heard that tone when girls talked about Tsukishima before and, the thing about it was, it almost hurt more because he couldn’t disagree with them. Tsukishima _was_ cool. Tsukishima _was_ handsome and interesting and a puzzle. Tsukishima _was_ someone who was worth getting to know. And he couldn’t blame them for not being interested in him instead.

“You know,” Tadashi said lightly, “Tsukki doesn’t have a girlfriend.” He looked over again to gauge her reaction.

“I know that,” she said. Yachi pulled her eyebrows together thoughtfully. “The only person I ever see him with outside of volleyball is – is you, Yamaguchi-kun!”

Tadashi laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess you’re right,” he said. Then he added, “But if you wanted to change that, I don’t think he’d mind.”

A sudden picture flashed through Tadashi’s head, one of Tsukishima and Yachi smiling at each other, holding hands and walking away from him. The thought alone sent a cold trickle of dread running down his spine, and he had to shove it away forcefully.

“M— maybe,” Yachi said finally.

They both watched as Kageyama faked a toss to their first-year wing spiker and set to Tsukishima instead, too high and too fast, exactly the way he hated. But Tsukishima jumped into the air and spiked the ball between the front and back lines. Tadashi admired the way the muscles in his arm contracted, the way his body twisted to connect, the way it didn’t look like he was expending any energy even with his long legs far above the ground.

Yachi sighed. “Amazing.”

Tadashi sighed. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Nice, Tsukki!”

*

Nothing happened for a few days. Volleyball practice and school happened like normal, and no one acted any differently from how they usually did. Tadashi nearly forgot about the whole thing, until one afternoon after practice when Yachi asked Tsukishima to stay behind.

Tsukishima looked confused, but accepted nicely enough. He never really seemed to know how to deal with Yachi; she was earnest and radiated nearly as much sincerity as Hinata, but she was smart and after a year as manager, she knew how to keep the team in line almost as well as Ennoshita.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Tadashi asked Tsukishima, hovering near the doorway. He wanted to stick around to hear their conversation, even though he had no right.

Tsukishima looked at Yachi. “Will this take long?” he asked.

Yachi shook her head hard. “No. I mean, probably not. I— I mean, it shouldn’t. Do. That thing. The long thing.”

Tadashi snuck a glance at Tsukishima’s face and found that he was amused, but not in the way where he was going to be mean about it. It was more like the amusement after Tadashi spent twenty minutes ranting about Kinoshita getting to play more than him in official games, even though Kinoshita was older and more of an all-rounder.

“Okay,” Tsukishima said, then said to Tadashi, “Please wait.”

“Sure, Tsukki,” Tadashi chirped. “Take your time!”

Tadashi got ready slowly, his mind wandering to every possible scenario. Maybe Yachi would confess and Tsukishima would laugh in her face, and then Tadashi might have to fight for Yachi’s honor. Yachi would swoon and fall into Tadashi’s arms, and Tsukishima would be his ex-best friend and top romantic rival.

“No,” he muttered to himself, pulling on his school uniform again. Yachi could stand up for herself, and while Tsukishima didn’t have any problem turning confessions down, he wasn’t cruel about it. Every time it had happened before, in fact, he seemed more confused than anything.

Well. Maybe Tsukishima would accept. Then Tadashi would have to help Tsukishima pick out little gifts for her, and remember her birthday, and give a best man speech at their wedding in ten years. Tsukishima would ask him for help tying his tie before the ceremony and their eyes would meet, Tsukishima’s filled with years of gratitude and a feeling neither of them had the words for.

“ _No_ ,” he said again, louder this time. Nishinoya shot him a strange look as he grabbed his bag and ran out of the clubhouse. Tadashi sighed and started to walk down the stairs, waiting at the bottom.

Probably nothing would happen. That was for the best.

A few minutes later, Tsukishima came out of the clubhouse by himself. He did, Tadashi noticed, look confused as he often did after a girl confessed to him.

“Everything all right?” asked Tadashi, trying for light and breezy, even though his heart had taken up residence in his throat.

“Yes,” Tsukishima said, hitching his bag up on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They walked in silence for a bit, which wasn’t too strange for them; sometimes Tadashi would chatter to fill the quiet or Tsukishima would slip on his headphones and thumb through his phone. Five minutes later, a playlist would appear in Tadashi’s messages and he’d stick his earbuds in so they could listen to the same thing at the same time. Tsukishima had good taste in music, and he seemed to know instinctively what music Tadashi was in the mood for at any given moment. When he got home, Tadashi would often play the songs all over again.

“Yamaguchi,” said Tsukishima suddenly, making Tadashi jump. “What do you think of Yachi-san?”

“Yachi?” Tadashi repeated, still trying for the light and breezy he didn’t feel. “She’s smart and cute and very well organized. I like her,” he said, knowing how much it was true.

Tsukishima nodded. “Me too,” he said, which surprised Tadashi. It wasn’t like him to just admit liking a person. “But I don’t know,” he said in a quiet voice, so quiet that Tadashi had to strain to hear him, “how I like her.”

Tadashi bit his lip. “What did you and Yachi-san talk about, Tsukki?”

“Well, I think she asked me out on a date,” said Tsukishima, making Tadashi’s stomach drop a bit. “And she said she really admires me, and has for a long time,” he added. Tadashi’s stomach dropped a little more. “Then she motioned me down and –” Tsukishima stopped walking completely, so Tadashi did, too. “And she kissed me,” Tsukishima said.

Tadashi’s stomach bottomed out.

He could see it so clearly in his head, Yachi jumpy and wringing her hands together as she confessed, gesturing so Tsukishima would bend down to her level. They probably looked adorable together, lips locked in the middle of the volleyball gym. Probably Tsukishima hadn’t known what to do with his hands – Tadashi wouldn’t have known what to do with his either.

“Oh,” Tadashi said. “How – how was it?”

Tsukishima touched his mouth with one hand; Tadashi followed the gesture with his eyes. “I didn’t mind it,” he said finally, “but I’ve never thought about it before.”

Tadashi dreaded hearing the answer, but asked the question anyway: “So are you going to go on a date with her?”

“I don’t know,” Tsukishima said. “Like I said, I’ve never thought of Yachi-san that way before. But you’re right; she’s cute and smart and we might have fun. What would you do?”

“Me?” Tadashi said, and laughed. He started to walk again, fast, getting ahead of Tsukishima so he couldn’t see Tadashi’s face.

“No, my other best friend,” Tsukishima said sarcastically, easily catching up with him. Damn his long, volleyball-playing legs. “Yes, you.”

“I’d –” Tadashi hesitated, then sighed. Tsukishima would see right through him if he lied about it. “I’d go out with her. Of course.” He thought he heard Tsukishima let out a little sigh at that, but when he glanced over, his face showed only perfect indifference.

“I thought you’d say that,” Tsukishima said. “I guess I can try it.”

*

“Yachi and _Tsukishima_? Are you sure?” Hinata was saying to Tanaka after practice the next day; the three of them were the last ones in the clubhouse.

All of the muscles in Tadashi’s shoulders tensed and he tried to finish getting ready as soon as possible before any of his teammates could round on –

“Yamaguchi!” Tanaka shouted. “Tell Hinata that I’m not making it up.”

Tadashi sighed and zipped up his bag. “You’re not making it up.”

“That’s just weird,” said Hinata. Tadashi braced himself, ready to come to Tsukishima’s defense over someone saying how much he didn’t deserve Yachi. Tadashi knew he was going to, even if the whole situation made him unhappy, because no matter how cute Tadashi found Yachi, he knew Tsukishima deserved anything he wanted and Tadashi wouldn’t allow anyone saying otherwise, not even Hinata. But Hinata just said, “I thought Tsukishima liked –” Then he stopped short.

“Liked who?” Tadashi asked, probably a little too quickly.

Hinata’s eyes cut from one side to the other, too shifty for him. “Uh. No one else. I’m wrong! Tsukishima must like Yacchan, why else would they be going out on a date together? Right?” He let out a short little laugh and scratched the back of his head. “Anyway, got to go! Kageyama insulted my footwork and I’ve got to kick him in the head. Now. Right now.” Hinata ran out the door, leaving a bewildered Tadashi behind.

Who could Tsukishima possibly like, if not Yachi? And why did _Hinata_ know about it and not Tadashi? He thought about it so hard that his head started to ache. There was only one logical conclusion if Tsukishima really did have a crush, but that was so silly that he laughed out loud at the thought. The only way Tadashi wouldn’t know who Tsukishima liked would be if Tsukishima liked _him_ , and that was so ridiculous he didn’t even know where to start. Which meant Hinata had to be wrong. _That_ was the real logical conclusion.

So why did he keep thinking about it for the rest of the day?

*

The day of Tsukishima and Yachi’s date came around before Tadashi knew it. He tried to put it out of his head, but that was hard when Tsukishima messaged him an hour beforehand with just one word: _Help_. Tadashi found himself telling his mom he was headed over to Tsukishima’s without a second thought, which was how he found himself on his best friend’s bed, helping him get ready for a date with his crush.

“Pick a shirt,” Tsukishima said, holding up a black t-shirt with a picture of a pteranodon fossil on the front and a bright blue button-down shirt. Tadashi didn’t know what he was worried about; Tsukishima could wear a paper bag and probably have girls falling at his feet. They’d probably call him a style icon and start wearing little paper dresses. But he didn’t dare say that out loud.

“Where are you going?” asked Tadashi.

“To an arcade, then to the movies,” Tsukishima said.

Tadashi pictured Yachi and Tsukishima sitting in the dark, their heads tilted toward each other as they shared a giant popcorn. Tsukishima _loved_ movie theater popcorn; it was one of the few foods he’d reliably eat that wasn’t covered in whipped cream, and Tadashi thought it was cute how Tsukishima would always mindlessly grab a handful whenever Tadashi’s hand was still in the bag. Yachi would find it cute, too, he was sure of it, and that made him frown.

“The t-shirt then,” he said, and Tsukishima nodded and threw the button-down at Tadashi, hitting him in the face. “Hey!” he said, pulling it down just as Tsukishima yanked the shirt he’d been wearing over his head.

Tadashi’s face went hot, fast, and he looked away and down, not really understanding his reaction. Maybe it was because he’d just been thinking about Yachi. Maybe it was yesterday’s strange conversation with Hinata. At any rate, he found himself twisting the material of the button-down in his hands.

“Well?” Tsukishima said once he was dressed, and Tadashi looked up again. The sleeves of the t-shirt clung tight to Tsukishima’s biceps in a way that their volleyball jerseys didn’t, and Tadashi found himself wondering how long he’d had those.

“Almost,” Tadashi said, standing up again, the button-down still in hand. He walked toward Tsukishima, who looked at him questioningly, but shrugged into the other shirt when Tadashi held it open for him. “If you leave it unbuttoned, you’re not too dressed up but you still look cool.”

Tsukishima turned around, and Tadashi found his hands automatically coming up to smooth down the front of the blue shirt. “It’s good someone thinks I’m cool,” he said.

“Shut it,” Tadashi mumbled, eyes trained on the pteranodon bones covering Tsukishima’s chest. “It’s not just me,” he added, raising his head and finding Tsukishima watching him intently. Tadashi sucked in a little breath, just as Tsukishima ducked down and pressed his mouth to Tadashi’s.

The kiss was soft and brief and Tadashi’s first. He was right – he had no idea what to do with his hands, so he just kept them on Tsukishima’s chest – but he found he didn’t mind it. When the thought of _Ah, I’m kissing Tsukki_ ran through his thoughts, nothing about it seemed strange, not until Tsukishima stepped back with his face flaming red, saying, “I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry.”

Tadashi nodded, his fingers coming up to lightly touch his mouth, and he cleared his throat harshly. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice quiet and low. “You’d better hurry, though, or you’ll be late for your date.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. An eternity passed easily as Tadashi fidgeted in the middle of Tsukishima’s room, thinking about how his best friend was about to go out on a date with Tadashi’s crush and revising his thoughts to maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so much his best friend and crush together that bothered him so much as both his crushes together, without him. Then, Tsukishima nodded and they left together, parting ways in front of Tsukishima’s house.

“Good luck, Tsukki!” Tadashi said as he left, and he sounded so bright and so fake even to his own ears that he had to walk away as quickly as possible, but walking fast didn’t stop him from touching his own mouth on the way home.

*

Tadashi didn’t check the next day to see how Tsukishima’s date had gone. He didn’t want to hear it if it had gone well, and he didn’t want to know if it was bad, either. Good made him play out every sad scenario of being left out and left behind. A bad date just had him blaming himself. A bad date meant Tsukishima probably spent the whole night distracted by their kiss. And Tadashi knew what that felt like because that was what he’d done.

On Monday morning, Tadashi walked to school with Tsukishima, same as always. He didn’t ask about the date then, only offering a wan smile and an excuse about being tired when Tsukishima asked if he was feeling okay. And he hated that his heart thumped at that _how are you?_ question, the very baseline of friendship, just because it came from Tsukki. Morning volleyball practice and morning classes were a studied practice in avoiding Tsukishima’s gaze; Tadashi knew he felt it more than once, the weight of it making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Lunch rolled around with a shiver down his spine, and Tadashi was deciding whether to suck it up and eat with Tsukishima as normal or bolt for the door as soon as the chime rang.

“Yamaguchi-kun?” someone asked from the doorway, when Tadashi had his hands braced on his desk, ready to run. He looked up, startled, and saw Yachi standing there, clutching a wrapped bento, one way too big for her.

A couple of the guys who sat near him started making approving noises and one even ruffled his hair as he passed by Tadashi’s desk.

Yachi walked into the room then and put the bento in front of Tadashi. “I made this for you,” she said, putting her hands behind her back and shooting him a bright grin. Tadashi gaped at her for a moment, before panic set in and his head naturally swung in Tsukishima’s direction. But Tsukishima wasn’t even looking at them, already opening up the lunch his mother made him every day. Tadashi forced himself to look at Yachi again.

“Th— thank you,” he said, baffled.

“Kei-kun told me that you usually don’t bring enough food for yourself and wind up having to buy extra bread, so I thought this would help.” 

Tadashi didn’t say anything right away. Kei-kun? Were they talking about him on their date? _Why_? Were they making fun of him? Tadashi shook his head a little. No, Yachi would never do that and he felt sure Tsukishima wouldn’t talk badly about him behind his back. He was baffled. Then, he realized Yachi was waiting for him to say something. Tadashi opened his mouth.

Yachi started waving her hands in front of her face, shaking her head to side-to-side. “Not that this means you can’t take care of yourself! I’m sure you can; you’re a grown man! Wait. No, you’re not, but you’re — I just thought it would be — if you wanted —”

Tadashi got up a little from his chair and bowed his head, stopping Yachi mid-anxious spiral. “Thank you!” he shouted, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up again; Tsukishima was surely staring at him now, but who could blame him after hearing Tadashi yell his head off? “It’s great!” he continued, still much too loud.

Yachi beamed and for some reason that made Tadashi glance sideways; Tsukishima had his hand propped up on his chin and was staring out the window like the handsome protagonist in some drama, but Tadashi could see that one corner of his mouth had lifted.

“You’re welcome. But I’ve got to get back to my classroom now,” said Yachi, bowing a little herself. “Hinata is coming by for help with math.”

Window Protagonist gave a little snort at that, but that was his only contribution to the conversation. Tadashi waved and watched Yachi leave the way she came, waiting only as long as it took for her to disappear to tug open the furoshiki Yachi had wrapped around the bento box. It had tiny ducks and flowers printed all over it — cute — and the box inside was dark green with a volleyball stamped on top. 

Tadashi was baffled by this. Why was Yachi going on dates with his best friend, maybe kissing him again just like Tadashi himself had, only to turn around and make him lunch the next Monday? What was that supposed to mean?

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Tadashi’s head whipped to the side and he blinked at Tsukishima. He didn’t look jealous or even particularly interested in what Tadashi was doing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t. In fact, he looked like he was in a pretty good mood. He raised his eyebrows at Tadashi, waiting.

“Right,” Tadashi said, clapping his hands together in a little prayer before pulling the lid off. There were volleyball-shaped seaweed cutouts all over the rice, octodogs with little eyes, and some fried potato thing that had wilted to the perfect consistency, probably from being put into the box hot. There was also a handwritten note stuck to the lid, one that read, _Meet me after practice? - Hitoka-chan_

“Cute,” Tsukishima said in a monotone and went back to his lunch.

Tadashi gaped at him, but Tsukishima wouldn’t look up again. He didn’t understand anything anymore.

*

After practice, Yachi hovered near the door to wait for Tadashi. She looked down at her feet shyly before looking up at him. 

“Did you see my note, Yamaguchi-kun?”

Tsukishima leaned way over her shoulder at that, startling both of them. “You could probably call him Tadashi,” he said, making Tadashi’s eyes widen as his given name rolled off Tsukishima’s tongue. He’d hardly heard it from him since they were both kids and his reaction to it now was — different. “I think he’d like that.”

Then he stood up again and walked off, leaving both Yachi and Tadashi staring after him for far longer than necessary.

“Is — is it okay, Tadashi-kun?” asked Yachi, after she got her bearings back, faster than Tadashi. His name sounded good from her, too. He nodded, tentatively, and her face broke out in a sunshiny grin. Tadashi let out a little sigh, thinking he could stare at her smile forever; an image of Tsukishima grinning and holding up his hands for a high five after a good play popped into his mind. He sighed again, a little more conflicted this time, since he also thought he could look at _that_ smile forever. Why did everything have to be a mess?

“Thank you for lunch,” he said, walking around the gym and picking up a couple of stray balls the first-years had missed. He put them on the stage and when he turned around, he found that Yachi was standing much closer than he expected. “I — I really liked it, Yachi-san.”

“Hitoka’s fine,” she said. “If you want, that is! We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Okay,” said Tadashi softly. “Hitoka-chan, why did you want to meet up with me?”

Yachi took another step in, her cheeks attractively pink. “Well —”

“Because I won’t do anything to hurt Tsukki,” he blurted out. He hadn’t really meant to say that, but she was very close and very pretty and it was on his mind, and if he hadn’t said anything, he was afraid he’d do exactly that. It was bad enough that he’d kissed Tsukishima while he was getting ready for his date with Yachi. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to kiss Yachi now. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to kiss Tsukishima again. He was determined not to do anything to make things worse. 

Yachi started waving her hands frantically in front of her face; Tadashi had to lean back to get out of her way. “Oh! I would never — it’s not like — I couldn’t ask you to — I _wouldn’t_.” She took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself, fists clenched tightly at her sides. “Kei-kun and I talked a lot about you the other day.” Her eyes had a sudden determination to them that hadn’t been there before. 

“You did?” asked Tadashi. His heart knocked traitorously against his rib cage. 

Yachi nodded, still determined. “He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Tadashi’s face broke out into an automatic grin at that, even though he was still confused and hopeful and anxious and a whole big bundle of other emotions that were hard to sort out and might not even have names. “Well,” he said wryly, “still probably not as much as the other way around.”

“No, probably not,” Yachi agreed and she beamed back at him. She reached out and grabbed his hand with both of hers, rubbing the back in a comforting way. Then she reached out and grabbed his other hand, folding their fingers together and bringing both down to their sides. He wondered if this was how things went when she kissed Tsukishima and he nearly closed his eyes picturing it, picturing them. “We talked a lot about you, Tadashi-kun,” she went on. “Both of us. And we had a lot of fun. I like him a lot. Kei-kun can be surprisingly sweet.”

Tadashi huffed out a laugh. “I know.” 

“But we both thought we would have had even more fun if you were there, too.”

At that, Yachi lifted up onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his, a small sweet kiss that made Tadashi’s head spin. Their hands were still linked at their sides, which solved the hand problem for Tadashi this time around, which was good because he probably couldn’t put them on her chest like he had with Tsukishima. That thought made his cheeks go suddenly, swiftly hot and he let out a small gasp before he even realized what he was doing. Yachi opened her mouth as he did, and the kiss changed then. Instead of something small and sweet, it became something _more_.

It felt like a dam had finally broken after days and days of tiny cracks springing leaks, one for every time Tadashi thought about Tsukki or Yachi or Tsukki _and_ Yachi. The patches he kept trying to apply just weren’t working and now that the whole thing had smashed open, it was such a relief. He didn’t need that damned dam anyway. 

When they finally separated to breathe, Tadashi had his arms wrapped around Yachi’s waist to pull her in tight and she had her arms around his neck, her head tilted up, eyes closed, mouth still a little open. The sun was setting, casting purple and pink streaks on the gym floor. It was pretty idyllic, really. 

Then Tadashi’s back complained from bending down to Yachi’s height, but he told it to shut up.

“Wow,” said Yachi, her eyes fluttering open again. 

“Yeah,” Tadashi agreed, then laughed. “Hi.”

*

Tadashi was still in a daze as he left the clubhouse. Before she left to catch her bus, Yachi made him promise that the three of them could talk, all together, and the implications of that were really too big for his normal human brain to comprehend. He stumbled out the door and down the stairs, ready to make the walk home alone. He hoped he still remembered which direction to head in.

“Hi.”

Tadashi looked up, startled, and blinked at Tsukishima leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs. The sky had gone completely dark in the time it took Yachi and Tadashi to say their goodbyes, and all the streetlights had come on. Tsukishima was illuminated by one, his hair glowing gold, giving him a halo.

An angel, Tadashi thought. Well. No, not at all. But definitely the face of one.

“You waited for me,” Tadashi said.

“How did it go?” asked Tsukishima, ignoring Tadashi’s observation. He looked nervous, scuffing his foot against the dirt and chewing on his bottom lip. It was an unusual look for him; Tadashi was so used to Tsukishima’s confidence in everything, even if that confidence sometimes included confidence that he couldn’t pull things off that he could — an unusual look, but not a bad one. He looked… well, cute. Tadashi wanted to kiss him again. Maybe if he tilted his head up to reach Tsukishima’s mouth, it would reverse whatever damage he’d done to his back when kissing Yachi, like some sort of kiss-related spinal adjustment.

“We talked for a long time,” Tadashi said. “It was a pretty unexpected conversation, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima laughed a little at that, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Just talked?”

Tadashi shook his head, reached out and grabbed Tsukishima’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “No,” he said, and squeezed. 

They headed off in the direction of home, hands still tangled together. Tadashi felt like his feet were barely touching the ground.

“I missed you,” Tsukishima mumbled. “Today.” He exhaled through his nose. “The last couple of days, really.” 

Tadashi looked over and saw that Tsukki was blushing. 

“More than even usual,” Tsukishima added, his voice dropping to almost nothing.

“Me too,” Tadashi said. He wanted to say more, but the prospect was embarrassing. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he never told Tsukishima how great he was. Maybe this just seemed different somehow. But Yachi had been brave in the first place, telling Tsukishima that she liked him. And Yachi had been brave again, making sure whatever she and Tsukishima had talked about hadn’t stayed just between the two of them. “I thought about you kissing me all weekend.”

“Oh?” Tsukishima sounded hopeful. Maybe. Even for Tadashi, sometimes it was hard to tell.

“Yeah. And then I thought about you kissing Yachi,” Tadashi went on, “and it felt like a knife to the gut. I didn’t know if I wanted to be you or her.” 

Tsukishima lifted one shoulder, shrugging. “You don’t need to pick that. You’re you.”

Tadashi let out a long breath and hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to be someone else to be there,” Tsukishima continued, like that was a breezy thing to say, like it didn’t set every one of Tadashi’s nerves on fire. 

“This whole thing,” began Tadashi, hesitant. “It — it seems kind of weird.”

“Does it?”

Tadashi considered this. “Maybe not. But people will talk, if they realize what’s going on.”

Tsukishima shrugged again. “Let them.” There was the confidence Tadashi expected; Tsukishima sometimes cared about what other people thought, but not when it came to choosing which people to like. 

“Okay,” Tadashi agreed softly. 

Tsukishima squeezed his hand, reassuring. It was nice that the whole walk he hadn’t even thought of letting go. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Tadashi asked. 

A third shrug. “Only one way to find out.”

*

“Come on, Tsukki.” Tadashi stood by Tsukishima’s desk at lunch, holding two wrapped packages. “We’ve got to run an errand.”

Tsukishima cocked his head. His bento from home sat unopened on his desk. “We do?”

Tadashi nodded firmly and held up the first wrapped package. “I have to bring lunch to Ya— Hitoka-chan. To thank her for the one she made me.”

“And the other one?” Tsukishima asked, already pushing himself up to stand. 

Tadashi beamed and plopped it onto Tsukishima’s desk. “That’s for you!” he said as Tsukishima stared at the bento wrapped in a ladybug-printed furoshiki. He scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “Ah, that is, if you want it. I’m not good at cooking and I know you have a lunch from home.”

Tsukishima didn’t answer, instead picking up his own bento and shoving it hard at Tadashi’s chest. “Here. It’s not like I need two,” he said, his ears suspiciously pink. “And knowing you, you didn’t make anything for yourself.”

“Thanks, Tsukki!” Tadashi’s smile widened. 

Tsukishima picked up the lunch Tadashi had made for him. “Come on, Tadashi. We’ve got to hurry if we’re going to eat with Hitoka.”

He walked out the door without checking to see if Tadashi was behind him, but of course he was. 

Yachi was really grateful for the lunch. She bowed to Tadashi, and Tadashi bowed back, and then they knocked their heads together and Tsukishima had to sit between them to protect them from their own nervous bodies. He didn’t seem to mind somehow. 

After a little while, Yachi started fidgeting in her chair. “Did you — ah,” she began. “Did — did you, um, did both of you — you don’t have to if you don’t want to —”

“Spit it out, Hitoka,” Tsukishima said, though his voice was gentle when he said it. 

“Do you both want to come over after volleyball practice?” she finally asked, staring down at her desk and not at either of them. 

“Yes!” Tadashi practically shouted. The couple of kids in Yachi’s class who stuck around through lunch turned around to stare. 

Tsukishima laughed, again surprisingly gentle. “Sure,” he said, though Tadashi noticed his ears were pink again. 

“My mother works late a lot. She’s usually not home when I get there,” she said. Tsukishima cleared his throat awkwardly, and Yachi’s and Tadashi’s eyes went wide. “Kei-kun! Not like that!” Yachi practically shouted, getting the attention of the other students again. “It’s just — it can get lonely.”

Tadashi opened his mouth, but Tsukishima beat him to it. “We’ll be there,” he said firmly. 

*

After practice, Tadashi and Tsukishima rode with Yachi on the crowded bus. Without a word, they flanked her on either side and didn’t comment when she would grip one of their jackets whenever the ride got too bumpy. 

Yachi’s apartment was small, which made sense since it was just her and her mother, but it was way too stylish for Tadashi to comprehend. Someone with design sense had definitely arranged everything in the living room, and he felt weird sitting on their couch while Yachi went into the kitchen to get snacks and start dinner. She explained that her mom got home late most nights, and though her mother didn’t expect her to take care of meals, Yachi didn’t want her mother to have to fuss much if she was even later than usual. Tadashi could see why she called it lonely.

As they waited, Tsukishima stood by the wall-mounted television and minimalist shelving unit, hand in his school uniform pocket. The whole scene looked like it was staged for an architectural magazine; Tadashi, by comparison, felt like a coffee stain left on the page. 

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Tsukishima observed. 

“Maybe I am!” said Tadashi, suddenly defensive. 

Tsukishima laughed and walked toward the couch, kneeling down in front of Tadashi. “Please don’t.” He cupped Tadashi’s face with both hands and moved in, kissing him without hesitation. Tadashi’s eyes slid shut before the rest of him even had a chance to realize what was happening, and the next thing he knew, he had his fingers twisted up in Tsukishima’s sleeve. 

“Ah!” Yachi said, coming back into the room and making Tsukishima and Tadashi pull apart. Glass tinkled dangerously from the snack tray she was holding and Tsukishima smoothly stood again to grab it before all her hard work fell to the floor. “Sorry,” she said, ducking her head. 

Tadashi didn’t miss how Tsukishima’s hand completely covered Yachi’s hand before taking the tray, a small soothing gesture.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Tsukishima, putting the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You weren’t interrupting anything.”

“I wasn’t?” Yachi asked.

“No!” shouted Tadashi, too loud to even his own ears. 

Tsukishima laughed again; he was laughing so much, mostly at Yachi and Tadashi, but none of it was mean. It seemed more like relief, like a great weight had been lifted from his chest, and it finally occurred to Tadashi that maybe he’d been as burdened by feelings as Tadashi had been. 

“No,” Tsukishima agreed, walking over to Yachi again and standing close to her. He put both hands on the sides of her face, just as he had with Tadashi, and bent down low to press their mouths together. Yachi went up on her toes as soon as their mouths met, and Tadashi sucked in a sharp gasp at the sight. Instead of the stab of jealousy he’d felt over the weekend every time he thought of this moment, a lightning bolt of pleasure ran through his whole body, making him grab the edge of the couch cushion with both hands. After a moment, someone made a noise and Tadashi thought it might have been him.

Tsukishima and Yachi parted, Tadashi watching as they blinked at each other, dazed for a moment.

“Wow. That was way better than our first kiss,” Yachi blurted out.

Tsukishima laughed _again_. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but —” He nudged her toward the couch, toward Tadashi. “Go ahead,” he said, not without impatience.

Yachi was biting her bottom lip as she stumbled toward Tadashi. “Just — you don’t have to get up,” she said, and she was right. He only needed to tilt his head up a little to meet her mouth while she stood in front of him; his hands were still white-knuckled on the couch cushion and the material of her uniform skirt brushed the back of his hand. Vaguely, he could sense Tsukki moving around the room as the kiss went on, longer even than their first one, and when the cushion next to him dipped, Tadashi turned his head so he could capture Tsukishima’s mouth again. 

He felt lightheaded, overwhelmed, as the three of them traded kisses again and again, their hands finding each other to pull Yachi onto the couch between them. And Tadashi’s dizziness only grew when he was kissing Yachi, and he could feel Tsukishima move in closer to press his open mouth to the side of Tadashi’s throat.

 _Ah_ , he thought faintly. _So that’s how this all works._

When they finally broke apart a little while later, all three of them were flushed and maybe a little sweatier than when they began.

“So,” Tadashi said, still a little nervous. He sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself down.

“Snacks?” Yachi suggested, looking down at her lap. She pulled her hands from theirs and twisted her fingers up in the material of her skirt.

“Snacks are good,” Tsukishima agreed. He picked up a strawberry from the tray, popped it into his mouth, and stretched over Yachi to plant one more quick, sweet kiss on Tadashi’s waiting mouth. Then he smiled as he leaned back into his space.

*

A few days later, Tadashi was in the clubhouse after practice getting changed. 

“Hey, Tsukishima,” Hinata yelled across the room, “I meant to ask you. How did your date with Yachi go?”

Tadashi and Tsukishima exchanged quick looks, and Tadashi had to look away before he started blushing hard. 

“Nosy,” Tsukishima told Hinata. “It went fine. Why do you care anyway, pipsqueak?”

Hinata shrugged and sent a nervous glance Tadashi’s way; Tadashi smiled widely back and Hinata’s shoulders relaxed. “I just thought the whole thing was weird. But I’m glad it turned out okay!”

“What’s weird about it?” Tsukishima asked, zipping up his bag and hitching it up on his shoulder. “We’re meeting up again right now, in fact.”

“Wow, that’s awesome!” Hinata shouted as Tadashi finished getting dressed. “I’m rooting for you, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Don’t be gross.” He stood in the doorway and tilted his head to one side. “Ready to meet up with Hitoka-chan, Tadashi?”

Tadashi grinned. “Of course, Tsukki.” He grabbed Tsukishima’s hand and pulled him out the door.

Hinata’s baffled _what?_ echoed down the stairs after them.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments always welcome! if you'd like, come say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nonnonnegative) or just subscribe to me here for more of yamaguchi being a mess.


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